


Fill Your Body With Joy

by atlastforgot



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: College, Daddy Kink, Embarrassment, Falling In Love, Feminization, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, I Don't Even Know, Lingerie, M/M, Panties, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-11-09 05:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11098200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlastforgot/pseuds/atlastforgot
Summary: You’re so pretty,” Matt says, a little drunk, palming Foggy’s cheek.They haven’t even kissed yet, but that makes Foggy’s dick twitch in his jeans and his cheeks heat up. Matt smiles slowly, slipping his fingers into Foggy’s hair instead. This is definitely one of Matt’s sex faces—Foggy has observed it a few times in the wild, before making himself scarce so Matt could take a pretty girl back to their room.Pretty.“You like that?” Matt asks. “Being pretty?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> uuuuuhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm

“You’re so pretty,” Matt says, a little drunk, palming Foggy’s cheek.

They haven’t even kissed yet, but that makes Foggy’s dick twitch in his jeans and his cheeks heat up. Matt smiles slowly, slipping his fingers into Foggy’s hair instead. This is definitely one of Matt’s sex faces—Foggy has observed it a few times in the wild, before making himself scarce so Matt could take a pretty girl back to their room.

Pretty.

“You like that?” Matt asks. “Being pretty?”

“How could you tell?” Foggy asks, not even bothering to deny it. He’s basically weak in the knees, and Matt’s obnoxiously perceptive occasionally, when he wants to be. More lately than ever.

“You’re blushing,” Matt says. He’s practically cooing. “I could feel it.”

“You seem to like it, too,” Foggy says, hesitantly, and Matt nods.

“I’m gonna touch your face again and tell you just how pretty you are,” he says, pressing a soft kiss—their first kiss—to Foggy’s mouth before he tugs him towards his bed.

That night ends with them making out, slow and cautious and just a little sloppy, while Matt calls him sweet and pretty and perfect and Foggy resists the intense urge to wriggle down Matt’s body and suck his dick here and now. He’s never even done it before, but he wants to hear what Matt would say with Foggy’s mouth around him. He’s pretty sure that Matt would be okay with that, but they’re a little too drunk, and Foggy wants the first time that he gets Matt naked to be in full color and HD.

*

The first time they really fuck, Matt takes fifteen minutes making sure that Foggy’s ready, keeps three fingers deep inside of him while he kisses and licks at Foggy’s thighs, noses against the crease of them, dipping his tongue in before he runs it all the way up to Foggy’s hip.

He thinks Matt must really like how he tastes, but it almost seems rude to ask.

When he’s on top of— _inside_ of Foggy, thick and hot and overwhelming, he moves his hips in slow cautious circles until Foggy wraps his legs around his waist and says, “I can take it, Matty, I want—I want it.”

Matt pulls out enough to drip more lube on his dick before he thrusts back into Foggy, smoothly, so Foggy gasps and lifts his hips to meet him.

“Oh, Fog,” Matt says, shoving in so he’s deep inside of him when he leans down to kiss Foggy—Foggy’s almost not limber enough to be bent forward like this, but the way his muscles stretch and protest while Matt’s breathing hot on his mouth is too good to even consider changing positions.

He squeezes his thighs around Matt and Matt moans, tracing his tongue over Foggy’s bottom lip before biting down on it gently.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Matt breathes, words split up between a low groan.

“Compliments will—uh, _uh_ , oh my god—they’ll get you anywhere,” Foggy says, smiling when Matt laughs loudly, grinding his hips against Foggy’s.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “I want to be inside you when you come—want to feel it.”

Foggy makes a shaky agreeable noise before sliding a hand between them, wrapping it around his dick and almost sobbing at the feeling as Matt starts to move faster, sitting up more to hold onto Foggy’s hips and pull him back as he thrusts into him.

When Foggy comes, hips lifting off the bed and forcing Matt deeper inside of him, Matt pushes in as far as he can and stays there while Foggy clenches around him and gasps out his name. Matt rocks against him while Foggy shudders underneath him, smoothing hands up and down his sides, saying, “So good, sweetie—did you like that?”

“Understatement,” Foggy says, panting.

Matt’s fingers clench at his waist, and he pulls out of Foggy, a slow agonizing drag that makes Foggy’s hips jerk again.

“You can finish,” Foggy starts, but Matt’s taking off the condom and carefully pushing Foggy legs down before he moves to straddle his shoulders.

“You seemed to be pretty into this last time,” he says.

“Yeah,” Foggy says, smiling. “Yeah—go for it.”

Matt smooths fingers across his cheek before he cups the back of his head and carefully lifts it as he’s pressing his dick to Foggy’s lips. Foggy opens his mouth immediately, moaning when Matt shifts forward, feeds it to him inch by inch. He stops before he hits Foggy’s throat, threading both hands in his hair and fucking his face in a way that feels both filthy and impossibly gentle.

Matt pulls out when he’s close and comes across Foggy’s mouth, on his nose and cheeks. Foggy recently learned that he liked that, too. He’s learning all kinds of things.

Matt wraps his arms around him before he can get up to clean himself off, holding him close, laughing low when Foggy buries his face in his chest and wipes his face off on it. Matt drags him back up to kiss him, licking the last of it off his lips.

“Do I taste good?” Foggy finally asks. “I’ve gotten really familiar with your tongue lately.”

“Mmm,” Matt murmurs, smiling serenely. “The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“That—was _really_ lame, buddy,” Foggy says, laughing until Matt grins and pins him down on the bed, dragging his nose down the line of his throat and chest to bite down lightly on his stomach, just a nip.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” he says, resting his cheek there.

*

Matt got Foggy to come to this department store with him under the pretense of buying new socks but immediately stopped an employee to ask where the lingerie was, smiling in an obnoxiously charming way and tightening his fingers on Foggy’s arm, pulling just enough that Foggy leads him in that direction.

“What are you planning?” he asks.

“What size do you think you are?” Matt asks, fingers brushing across the edge of a plastic bin full of discount panties before he dips his hand into it.

“I’ve never had the occasion to find that out,” Foggy says, already blushing as Matt makes a contemplative noise and pulls out a pair of silky pink ones.

“What color?” he asks.

“Pink,” Foggy says. “They’re—uhm—”

Matt raises his eyebrows and waits expectantly, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips.

“They’re pretty,” Foggy says, softly, and the smirk comes out in full force.

“Try them on,” he says, tossing them to him before picking out a few more by texture alone and pressing them into Foggy’s hands, leaning in enough to brush his lips against Foggy’s jaw. Foggy stands still for a moment before he kisses Matt full on the mouth, for just a second, turning to walk to the men’s department and grab a t-shirt to hide them in before he heads to the dressing room.

The pink ones are just a little tight, but it’s kind of nice. He imagines how tight they’ll be when he’s hard; it’s not hard to imagine, because he’s pretty close already, damp patch already forming on the front.

He puts his jeans back on over them, because there’s no way he can buy them like this and he can do a little innocent shoplifting if it means Matt’s going to undress him to get to them later. He comes back out with two more pairs that fit, one white lace and the other soft delicate light blue cotton with a tiny satin bow on the front.

Matt buys them both for him and flirts with the cashier. Foggy’s too excited at letting Matt find out what he’s wearing that he doesn’t even bother being jealous.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now—tell me how pretty you look in your panties,” Matt says, smirking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am here on this, the lord's day, to give you some filthy body worshippy dirty talk

As soon as they get back from the store, Foggy leads Matt to his bed and falls onto it, pulling Matt on top of him so Matt grins and shifts until he’s straddling him more comfortably.

“Did you want something?” he asks.

“Take my pants off,” Foggy says, and Matt laughs, leaning down to kiss Foggy softly.

“What do you say?” he asks.

“Oh,” Foggy says, shifting underneath him. “Please.”                                    

“Good,” Matt says, sounding proud and making Foggy ache.

He presses a really charming kiss to Foggy’s nose before he moves down his body to unbutton Foggy’s jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly and going still when his fingers slide in to run over hot smooth silk.

“The pink ones?” he asks, raising his head towards Foggy, mouth open.

“I might’ve committed a crime today,” Foggy says. “Don’t tell God.”

“He’s got bigger things to worry about,” Matt says, distractedly, tugging Foggy’s jeans down to his knees and leaning down to press his mouth to Foggy’s erection, licking over the fabric. Foggy moans completely without shame, rocking his hips up only to have Matt pin them down, slotting his teeth over him instead.

“ _Matt_ ,” Foggy breathes.

Matt drags his teeth down lightly before he says, low, “Tell me how pretty you look in them.”

Foggy struggles for words, making an involuntary upset noise when Matt sits up and stops touching him altogether. He looks down at where his dick is straining against the soft pink fabric, pushing the waistband out, wiry hair and flushed red skin.

“I don’t—” he starts, then sighs. “I don’t think I’m pretty?"

Matt’s got a conflicted look on his face before it settles into a sweet smile; he presses a kiss to the skin above Foggy’s waistband before he moves back up his body to undress Foggy down to the panties, gently, encouraging him to move and pressing kisses all over him. When he’s done, he climbs back on top of him to pin Foggy down by his shoulders, grinning like a wolf. Since they started this, Matt’s started slipping neatly into this role that lets him coddle Foggy and wreck him all at once, some power dynamic that Foggy’s a little afraid to name even though it makes him feel hot and fucked up and loved.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” Matt says, holding Foggy down with one hand and working the other between where their bodies are pressed closer together, stroking fingers slowly over Foggy’s dick so it twitches against the silk. “Soft and curvy, always blushing when I touch you—everything about your body is so— _giving_.”

The hand that was giving attention to Foggy’s dick moves down to dig fingers into his thigh.

“Love the way your thighs spread out on the sheets when you open your legs for me,” Matt says, voice dropping low, resting their foreheads together as his hand moves to squeeze Foggy’s hip instead. “The way your hips give under my fingers when I fuck you.”

“Matt,” Foggy whispers, as he feels a blush spreading over his whole body, squirming underneath.

“Shh,” Matt says, squeezing Foggy’s shoulder enough that it hurts. “You can talk when I’m done.”

He runs his palm from Foggy’s hips to his stomach, smoothing it over the curve of it before digging each finger in, one at a time.

“Can’t get enough of your sweet stomach,” he says, pressing a kiss to Foggy’s mouth, rocking down so Foggy can feel Matt’s erection through his jeans as it rubs against him. “It feels so good when I’m on top of you, the way it moves when you come for me.”

“You like that?” Foggy asks, quietly.

“What did I say about talking?” Matt asks, and Foggy shuts his mouth immediately and is rewarded with another kiss, on his neck this time, and a soft murmur of, “I _love_ it.”

Matt’s hand slides up to pinch and gently twist both of Foggy’s nipples, mumbling something about how sensitive they are while his mouth is distracted, busy sucking a bruise onto Foggy’s neck. After he’s apparently satisfied with it, he lets go of Foggy’s shoulder and runs both of his hands down the length of Foggy’s body until he can slip them around to grip Foggy’s ass hard, leveraging him up so their hips slide together and Foggy moans.

Matt sits up just enough that he can train his eyes near Foggy’s face, probably listening to his harsh breathing, and it makes Foggy want to turn away and hide and, also, he’s so hard that he thinks he might _die_. It’s a combination of feelings he’s been getting used to, recently.

Matt digs his fingers in more.

“And your perfect little ass,” he says, low and obscene, “is maybe the prettiest thing about you—just—the noises you make when I touch you, the way you feel around my cock? I never want to let you out of bed.”

Foggy makes a desperate noise, wanting Matt to touch him again or shove his dick in Foggy’s mouth or fuck him just like this, their bodies sweaty and pressed together. He feels ridiculous, _slutty_ , but—

Pretty.

Matt lets go of his ass so Foggy falls back on the bed, spreading his legs wider so they press against Matt’s legs where he’s straddling him.

“ _Now_ —tell me how pretty you look in your panties,” Matt says, smirking, sitting up so he’s barely touching Foggy at all. Foggy squirms underneath him, embarrassed, distracted by the damp patch on his panties that’s starting to get cold where’s he’s no longer held down by Matt’s body.

 _His_ panties.

“They’re—they’re so tight, Matt, wrapped around me—pretty and pink. . .” he mumbles, making a face, loving it and hating it at the same time. “L—like me.”

“Like you?” Matt asks, sounding amused. “Are you pink, Fog?” 

“Yeah,” Foggy breathes. It’s probably more like red, but the sweaty blush has almost settled now to a full body heat, low and burning. “I feel so pretty—I _am_ pretty, I want to be pretty for you, Matty.”

If Matt lets him keep going, he’s going to babble and say something even more embarrassing, probably start begging, but luckily Matt is gracious and leans down to kiss Foggy again.

“Good boy,” he says, indulgently, like he’s talking to a particularly obedient dog but a little bit like an inside joke, friendly. Foggy has to bite back a whine, even though he’s sure that Matt would like it, would stroke his hair and call him good again. There’s not much time to consider it, though, because Matt’s nudging their noses together and saying, close to Foggy’s mouth, “Do you want me to pull your pretty panties to the side and fill you up?”

Foggy goes ahead and lets himself whine for that.

*

Later, after they shower and change their sheets—which has become a frequent necessity, lately—Matt pulls Foggy into a tight hug and says, laughing softly, “So, uhm, that was— _the_ hottest thing that I’ve ever done.”

“Yeah, yeah, same,” Foggy says, laughing. “Where did you learn to talk like that, dude? I can’t believe I ever thought you were a good Catholic boy.”

“I might have listened to a—just _unholy_ amount of porn,” Matt says, letting Foggy go and looking kind of shy.

“Did you pray afterwards?” Foggy asks.

“Of course,” Matt says, with just a hint of a smile. “So, you liked it?”

“Was all the embarrassing moaning not enough to prove that?” Foggy asks, smiling when Matt reaches up to cup his cheek, pressing his palm against it.

“You’re still blushing,” he says.

“I think it’s a my mouth saying no, my body saying yes kind of situation,” Foggy says. “Except my mouth is saying yes, and my brain’s conflicted and my body’s just—on _fire._ ”

“Why are you conflicted?” Matt asks.

“Because I feel like I should be ashamed to be completely panting for my best friend’s dick,” Foggy says, lightly, “especially while he tells me how pretty I look in the _lingerie_ I’m wearing.”

“Oh,” Matt says, grinning, like he gets it. “But you’re not ashamed.”

“Not really,” Foggy says. “Or if I am, then I’m totally getting off on it, so I think we’re good here.”

Matt laughs and leans in to kiss him.

“Yeah,” he says, warmly. “I think we are.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought there might be some daddy kink in this at some point BUT I DIDN'T EXPECT FOR IT TO HAPPEN SO FAST

“Why do _you_ need to buy perfume?” Marci asks, as they walk through a well-lit store that Foggy’s completely sure is way out of his price range. “I thought you and Murdock were finally getting all cozy.”

“How did you know that?” Foggy asks, frowning at her.

“How did I—a _rainbow_ exploded and rained glitter down upon us at whatever moment you finally kissed,” she says, dryly, laughing at the same time. “Also, you keep being disgustingly affectionate in public, like—way more than before, which is saying something because you’ve practically been sitting in each other’s laps since undergrad. _Everybody_ knows. It was hot gossip for about two days.”

“It’s not hot anymore?” Foggy asks.

“Nope, you’re old news, kid,” she says, stopping in front of a display full of delicate looking perfume bottles, boxes of them stored neatly underneath it with price signs that make Foggy cringe.

“Did you forget that we’re starving law students?” Foggy asks, picking up a box. “This is thirty milliliters and it costs more than the sum total of all my assets.”

“Well, to be fair, that’s got to be a negative number at this point,” she says, picking up a sample bottle and dabbing a little on her wrist. “We’re not buying anything here, anyway, you’re just going to pick what you’re into and then we’re going to take a trip this weekend to that outlet in Jersey where I get all my brand name shit.”

“Fun,” he says, obediently smelling her wrist when she holds it up to him. “Are we going to do a makeover montage?”

“Hell yeah,” she says, distractedly, reading a box with abstract looking leaves on the front. “How do you feel about notes of frankincense?” 

“Oh, biblical,” Foggy says. “Matt might like that.”

“So—you’re buying perfume for your boyfriend?” Marci asks, sitting down the box to favor him with a curious look.

“I don’t know if he’s my boyfriend,” Foggy says, hoping to find a good way to backtrack. He was going to say it was for his mom’s birthday, but it’s too late now. It might be weirder that Matt would care how his mom smells.

“He’s your boyfriend,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Back to the question at hand, though: does Murdock want to smell like a spring breeze or something?”

“I think that’s an air freshener,” Foggy says. “Hey, we could just go buy some of that instead, way cheaper, still smells good, let’s go—”

Marci lays a perfectly manicured hand on his arm.

“. . .the perfume’s for you, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Uhm, no,” Foggy says.

“ _You_ want to smell like wildflowers because your _boyfriend_ will like it,” she says, sounding delighted. “ _Foggy._ He wouldn’t want a masculine cologne? I could put you in something that smells like cigars and campfires.”

“He likes—pretty things,” Foggy says.

“Pretty things,” Marci repeats, smiling with teeth. “Tell me more.”

Marci does this thing with perfectly aimed questions and raised eyebrows that makes people divulge all their secrets, especially their weird sexual ones. She’s going to be an amazing lawyer; short of that, she has enough blackmail on people in their class that she can retire exclusively on dirty money.

They talk about it right there in the middle of the store while she keeps picking perfumes for him to smell, and she’s very restrained about making fun of him.

“You’re into it, too, right?” she asks. “You’re not just letting him doll you up to appease his weird fetishes?”

“No, uh—the fetishes are also my fetishes,” Foggy says, aware that his face is probably pink. “A mutual fetish. He doesn’t even know I’m doing this, anyway, I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, I could help you buy some other things he’ll like, if you want,” she says, opening a bottle and pulling a face before putting it back.

“Like what?” he asks, and she takes a moment to look him up and down, appraisingly.

“ _Pretty_ things,” she says, grinning when she meets his eyes again.

*

Matt pouts when Foggy tells him that he’ll be gone all day on Saturday, says, “Didn’t you say Saturdays were for staying in bed? You know what we get to do if we stay in bed, right? Let me remind you—” He slips fingers into Foggy’s hair to pull him gently into a kiss, and Foggy smiles against his mouth, turning his head.

“I’ll be back Saturday night,” he says, kissing Matt’s cheek. “Maybe with _gifts_.”

“For me?” Matt asks.

“Mmm hmm,” Foggy says. “Maybe for _us_.”

“Do you need money?” Matt asks, running fingers through Foggy’s hair, from his scalp down—he does it almost compulsively, lately, anytime they’re standing close and he doesn’t have anything to do with his hands. “My stipend for textbooks ended up being more than I needed.”

“It’s cool, I can just break out my bad decisions credit card,” Foggy says.

“Are you sure?” Matt asks, curving his hand around the back of Foggy’s head, scratching at it lightly. “I don’t mind.”

It only takes a moment for Foggy to recognize the look on his face.

“Do you get off on that, Matt?” he asks, laughing, moving in a little closer. “Do you want to be my sugar daddy?”

Matt’s smile goes a little hesitant, finger clenching in Foggy’s hair.

“I can’t afford the sugar part,” he says. It takes Foggy a second to get what he means and he thinks his brain might shut down for a second before it supplies, emphatically, in big red flashing letters: _daddy._ Matt licks his lips, turning his head away, and Foggy touches fingers to his jaw to make him look up before he steps in to kiss him, opening his mouth but letting Matt turn it dirty.

Once Matt’s got his hands on Foggy’s ass, Foggy pulls away just long enough to ask, in a soft murmur, “You want to be my daddy?” before he keeps kissing him. Matt groans into his mouth, grazing his teeth over Foggy’s bottom lip as he pulls back.

“ _Yeah_ ,” he says, hotly, using his hands on Foggy to pull him closer.

Foggy answers him with another kiss, thinking about the quickest way to get Matt out of his clothes when he happens to open his eyes and notice the clock on the wall.

“ _Shit_ , I’ve got an appointment with my advisor in, like, ten minutes,” he says, letting go of Matt to throw real clothes on and shove his keys and laptop into his bag. “Dinner tonight? You can pay.”

Matt laughs and nods. “I’d love to.”

Foggy’s got his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, when he suddenly rushes back to crawl into Matt’s lap and kiss him roughly, punctuating it with one last kiss and a hesitant, “Bye, Daddy,” before he runs for it.

*

“ _Daddy_?” Marci says, looking like it’s Christmas.

“If you use this to keep me from becoming Attorney General someday, I’ll tell everyone that you cried while we watched _The Notebook_ ,” he says.

“Uhm, you were the one who _made me_ watch _The Notebook_ but your secret’s safe with me,” she says, sorting through a clearance rack of lingerie in roughly Foggy’s size before she pulls out a silk negligee, light pink and cut low. “You like pink, right?” Foggy nods and she thrusts it at him. “Try it.”

They go through a similar process until he’s got an armful of soft and slick fabrics and lace in pale colors. There’s no attendant with the dressing rooms, so Marci slips in with him, perching on the chair and looking at him expectantly.

“Thought I could do this solo,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, honey,” she says, smiling, crossing her legs. “Besides, somebody’s got to give you feedback.”

“It’s not like it matters what I look like,” Foggy says, gamely taking off his shirt, anyway. Marci and him did some pretty intimate stuff while they were together and this honestly can’t get any weirder. “Matt can’t _see_ me.”

Marci hands him a silk camisole—lilac with little flowers stitched into the bottom, thin straps.

“ _You_ can see you, though,” she says, smiling almost kindly. “Also, I’m a part of this now, so I should get a free show.”

“No video or flash photography,” he says, pulling the camisole on over his head and smoothing it over his stomach, making a face at himself. “What do you think?”

 “It’s cute. Kind of low cut—have you thought about shaving?” she asks.

“Shaving what?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at her in the mirror. She makes a face like she’s thinking really hard about it.

“I was thinking your chest, but maybe. . .everything?” she offers.

*

Matt makes him try on everything he bought for him—soft camisoles and negligees cut right below his hips and _pantyhose_ , several pairs because he was both expecting and hoping that Matt would rip them. Every time he changes, he gets Foggy on his back and touches him everywhere but where he wants to be touched until Foggy’s begging and arching underneath him with his erection trapped under nylon.

The best sex of Foggy’s life and one pair of pantyhose completely trashed later, Matt holds him close and says, “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Foggy agrees, laughing breathlessly. Matt laughs, too, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re— _god_ , Fog, you’re amazing,” he says. “I can’t believe I get to have this with you. With _you_.”  

“ _You_ can’t believe it?” Foggy asks. “I’m still not convinced that this isn’t one long beautiful, surprisingly kinky dream.”

“All real,” Matt promises.

They lie quietly, both half-asleep, before Foggy asks, “Hey, Matt, are you my boyfriend?”

“I—assumed so,” Matt says, amused. “Are you mine?”

“Yeah,” Foggy says, smiling. “I am.”

*

A couple of weeks later, when he’s got enough spare time, Foggy spends what feels like _forever_ shaving his whole body. Halfway through, he takes a break to text Marci and apologize for society enforcing this on women and she replies _pics or it didn’t happen_.

When he’s finished and dried off, he reaches down to run his fingers from his ankle to his knee and his breath catches.

Matt’s going to _love_ this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't mean for marci to be a main character in this but i fell in love with her after finishing s2 and it just happened
> 
> i will maybe try to resist my dirty filthy threesome urges

Foggy lets Matt find out for himself, halfway through dinner in the dining hall closest to their dorm when he reaches out to stroke Foggy’s arm on the table and stops abruptly, fingers barely brushing skin.

“. . .did—did you—?” he asks, raising his eyebrows as he runs his fingers down the top of Foggy’s arm, to his wrist.

“Yep,” Foggy says, smugly.

“Where? How—how much?” Matt asks, swallowing audibly, shifting in his seat.

“You’ll have to find out,” Foggy says, laughing after Matt drops his fork with a clatter and immediately stands up, picking up his plate—he reaches up to tug him back down into his seat. “Finish _eating_.”

“Tease,” Matt says.

“ _Sex maniac_ ,” Foggy replies, grinning at him.

*

Matt gets Foggy to undress for him and sprawl out on the bed so Matt can take it all in at once, kneeling over him, hands traveling up and down his body like Matt’s trying to memorize the feel of him while Foggy just lets himself be touched. It’s overwhelming seeing how overwhelmed _Matt_ is, mouth open and panting when he runs his hands up Foggy’s inner thighs.

“This is so hot, Fog,” he says, bending down to rub a scratchy cheek against Foggy’s stomach before he kisses it. “Did you do this all for me?”

“It took basically a full day and I nicked myself six times,” Foggy says, smiling. “I wouldn’t do that for anyone but you.”

“Mmm,” Matt says, happily, moving lower to trace his fingers around where Foggy very carefully shaved his pubic hair off, avoiding the erection that’s been growing steadily since before they even got back to the room. “You’re so soft. I love you, Foggy.”

Foggy gasps.

“Is that okay?” Matt asks, sitting up so Foggy can see his mouth set in a nervous smile.

They’ve been dating for less than a month, maybe a little longer if you count failed attempts at flirting on both ends, but Foggy’s been in love with Matt since _undergrad_.

“Yeah, yes, that’s okay,” Foggy says, laughing. Matt grins down at him, brightly.

“Good, because I do,” he says. “I have for awhile.”

“I think I’ve loved you since that time you touched my face sophomore year,” Foggy admits, “but it might have been earlier. Oh—I love you, too, by the way.”

“I hoped you did,” Matt says, happily, smoothing his hands up Foggy’s thighs before he pushes them apart, sinking down low between them to rub his cheek against Foggy’s erection. Foggy gasps, hips lifting before Matt pins them down roughly.

“Matty, please,” he says, and Matt bites at his hip, licks from it to the base of Foggy’s dick, breathing hot against it.

“Call me daddy,” he murmurs, tracing his lips lightly up.

“Daddy,” Foggy breathes. “ _Please_.”

“You’ve been so good for me,” Matt says, licking slowly around the head of Foggy’s dick. Matt’s fingers digging bruises into his hips are the only thing keeping him from thrusting up into his mouth. “I want to make you feel good, baby.”

Foggy shuts his eyes and groans as Matt takes him in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and _sucking_.

“ _Daddy_ , daddy,” Foggy sobs, his whole body trembling as Matt starts to bob up and down, long fingers curled around the base of Foggy’s dick and stroking up in rhythm. “Fuck, I love you. I love you so much.”

Matt’s teeth barely graze him as he pulls off, pressing wet kisses down the length of Foggy’s dick before he crawls up his body, ignoring the sad noise that Foggy makes in favor of kissing him and lining their hips up to rock down against him.

“Love you,” he murmurs, hips circling in a rhythm that has Foggy panting, squirming underneath him, trying to help the process but a little too messed up on Matt whispering sweet things against his lips to do more than lie there and take it.

He tries to warn Matt before he comes, wanting to ask permission first because it always makes Matt beam at him, but Matt just keeps moving. Foggy’s back arches up underneath him, and Matt grinds down against him until he also comes with a groan while Foggy’s shuddering through the aftermath.

He settles his weight on top of Foggy, ignoring the mess between them, rubbing his cheek against Foggy’s. They’re both sweaty and gross and Foggy clings to Matt like he’s never going to let go while Matt gently rocks his hips down, making Foggy tremble and whine underneath him until he finally murmurs, “Mmm, st—stop, Matty, just—kiss me.”

Matt graciously moves off him, smiling as he curves his body around Foggy so they can trade slow, sleepy kisses until Matt turns his head away to breathe out, “Can’t believe you did that for me, sweetie.”

“I knew it would make you happy,” Foggy says. “I want to make you happy, Matt.”

Matt kisses him again.

“You always have,” he says, softly.

*

The next day, Marci sits down next to Foggy in the dining hall and runs her fingers down the length of his arm, which earns her a frown from Matt.

“Can you just _sense_ that I’m touching your boyfriend?” she asks, laughing.

“Yes,” Matt says, deadpan, and Foggy kicks him gently under the table.

“Prickly already,” she says, rubbing a thumb over Foggy’s wrist before she lets him go. “Are you going to keep it up?”

“How involved are you in our sex life, exactly?” Matt asks, sounding mostly amused. Foggy confessed immediately that he apparently is incapable of keeping secrets from her. She’s kind of his best friend—well, second best friend. Matt was only mildly concerned about it, but Foggy’s pretty sure that she already had some kind of dirt on Matt that neither of them has told him about, so he might just be resigned to it.

“I’m basically sponsoring it,” she says, grinning at him before she angles her head back to Foggy. “Anyway, if you want to make this full time, you could look into waxing instead.”

Matt almost knocks his cup over and Marci raises her eyebrows.

“Uhm,” Matt says, then lowers his voice, “Is that—is that something I could do for him?”

Marci laughs.

“Yeah, Murdock,” she says, reaching forward to pat his hand on the table. “I can take you shopping, too.”

“. . .you two aren’t going to become friends, are you?” Foggy asks, nervously.

“ _No_ ,” Matt and Marci say, simultaneously, looking surprised before they both laugh.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Marci says, dryly. “I think we can put aside our petty rivalry for long enough for me to teach him how to painfully rip the hair out of your body.”

“It sounds way less sexy when you say it like that,” Matt says, disapprovingly.

“I, uhm—I don’t know about _that_ ,” Foggy says, quietly, and gets two identical interested looks. It’s honestly kind of creepy.

“You kinky weirdo,” Marci says, fondly, and Matt gets this dark, pleased smile on his face that Foggy normally only sees when they’re alone, reaching out to take Foggy’s hand and lace their fingers together slowly, like he wants to draw it out.

“Stahl,” he says. “Please leave us.”

Marci snorts, but she gets to her feet and says, “Have fun, boys,” significantly before walking off to find another table. Matt uses Foggy’s hand to pull him close enough to press a kiss to his temple, stroking fingers through his hair.

“So,” he says, low and happy. “Pain?”

“Maybe,” Foggy admits.

“Fun,” Matt says, grinning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just.......they've consumed my SOUL

“She made me buy _clothes_ ,” Matt huffs, shouldering into their room with Marci following, both holding multiple shopping bags.

“I also made him go to a questionable store full of _very_ fun things,” Marci says, tossing a bag onto Foggy’s bed. He picks it up and pulls out a set of baby pink leather cuffs and a bundle of soft matching pink rope, and he looks up to see her smirking. “You’re welcome.”

“She’s a bad influence,” Matt says, dropping his bags on the floor before he walks over and leans down to kiss the top of Foggy’s head. “I’m—pretty excited about those, though.”

“Yeah?” Foggy asks, smiling up at him. They had talked about it casually a few days ago, after he let Matt spank him for the first time and fuck him into the mattress with his arms pinned above his head. “How did she get you to tell her about it?”

“I genuinely _don’t know_ ,” Matt says, looking kind of upset about it.

“It’s a gift,” Marci says, smugly, sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting through the bags until she pulls out a box and holds it out to Matt. “Oh, here’s your waxing shit. About five inches to your right, Murdock.”

“She also insisted on staying to test this out,” Matt says, taking the box and shaking it lightly. “Should we just invite her to watch at this point?”

Foggy must turn a damning shade of red, because Marci bursts out laughing and Matt steps forward to press a questioning hand to his cheek before he smirks and tips Foggy’s face up.

“We’re going to talk about your slutty exhibitionist side later,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss him on the mouth.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think I want to watch,” Marci says, lightly, holding up a pair of silk boxer briefs and giving Foggy a sly look. “I mean—if I was going to, I’d have to participate and Murdock seems like the jealous type.”

“That’s because I am,” Matt says, frowning at her when she throws the boxers at his head.

“I can confirm that,” Foggy says, happily. “A couple of weeks ago, some girl made a pass at me at a party and Matt suddenly decided we were the type of people who make _very_ public displays of affection.”

“It’s socially acceptable to make out with your significant other at a party,” Matt says, primly.

“Not how _you_ do it,” Foggy says, laughing when Matt falls down next to him and pulls him into a hug, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek.

“You loved it,” he says. “Now, you ready to test waxing out so Marci will leave and I can make you cry?”

“All this work I’ve put into making you two what you are today,” Marci says, distractedly, sorting out clothes from different bags, “and this is the thanks I get.”

“ _Thank_ you, Marci,” Foggy says, smiling at her and nudging Matt. “Matty, say thank you.”

“Thanks,” Matt says, almost genuinely. “You were—helpful.”

“A glowing recommendation,” Marci says, getting to her feet and knocking back whatever’s left in her coffee cup, tossing it neatly into the garbage can beside Matt’s desk. “Alright, let’s do this.”

She shows Matt how to heat up the wax and make sure it’s not too hot, watches while he smooths it over Foggy’s arm and presses the strip to it, tells him when it’s time.

“Ready, baby?” Matt asks, tracing fingers through Foggy’s hair.

“Yeah,” Foggy says, nervously. “Do it, Matty.”

He digs his fingers into Matt’s thigh when Matt pulls the strip off, biting back a shout. It’s a sharp, quick pain that leaves him gasping for breath, eyes going wide when he sees the look on Matt’s face, caught between shock and that face he gets when he’s about to fuck Foggy _particularly_ hard.

Matt traces gentle fingers over his sore skin and Foggy’s mouth drops open.

“Marci,” he says, slowly, sliding his hand higher up Matt’s thigh. “Please leave us.” 

“One step ahead of you,” she says, grabbing her purse. “I’m going to expect you to buy me coffee and girl talk with me about this, though.”

“Deal,” Foggy says, already leaning in to kiss Matt while she’s walking out. Matt kisses back roughly, pushing Foggy over to get on top of him with a knee shoved between his legs and both hands shoved into his hair.

“I want _you_ ,” Matt murmurs, punctuating it with a bite to Foggy’s lower lip, tugging it with his teeth, “to take off all your clothes for me.”

“Yes, daddy,” Foggy says, tipping his head back so Matt kisses him again before he stands up to do what he says. Matt listens while he gets undressed for awhile before he goes to heat up the wax again, getting everything ready while Foggy lies down on Matt’s bed.

Matt puts the first strip on Foggy’s thigh and Foggy almost screams when he rips it off, hips bucking up.

Matt jerks him off roughly every time he pulls a new strip off, until Foggy’s shouting and babbling through it, not even completely sure what he’s saying. He’s sore and aching and _so_ turned on, his whole body shaking when Matt lays down the last strip, right above his erection.

“Ask me for it,” Matt says, softly.

“Please,” Foggy gasps out, genuinely panting for it. “Daddy, _please_ , do it—”

Matt does it, yanks the strip off and then Foggy’s making a strangled noise and coming without Matt even touching his dick, hips thrusting helplessly into the air while it hits him fully, spreading through his body. 

“Fuck,” Matt whispers, shocked for a moment and then he’s on top of Foggy again, reaching between them to jerk Foggy off through the rest of it and mumble against his mouth, “So _hot_ , baby, you’re such a slut. Tell—tell me you’re a slut.”

Foggy surprises himself by starting to cry, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hot skin and Matt’s hands and the way his legs keep jolting through the aftermath of his orgasm and _embarrassment_. Matt stops immediately, letting go of Foggy to wipe his hands off on the sheets and cup Foggy’s face.

“Oh, no, I’m—I’m sorry,” he says, dropping back into reality hard, thumbing tears off Foggy’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Fog, I know I said I wanted to make you cry but not like _this_. Was it the slut thing? I won’t ever say it again, I just thought you’d—”

“Shut up,” Foggy sobs. “This is—this is good crying, I think.”

“Good crying?” Matt asks.

Foggy tiredly pulls Matt down into a real kiss, fingers holding loosely onto his hair before he turns his head to murmur, “Told you I was getting off on being embarrassed. That’s okay, isn’t it?"

“Yeah, buddy,” Matt says, softly, stroking his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “You’ll tell me if it’s bad crying?”

“I will, I promise,” Foggy says.

“Do you want to take a break,” Matt says, slowly, running his hands down to grip Foggy’s waist. “Or do you want to tell me what a slut you are? Either way, you’re getting fucked if you want it, one’s just—faster and dirtier than the other.”

“Fast and dirty, please,” Foggy says, brightly and immediately, wiping his face off with the back of his arm and hooking a leg around Matt.

*

They take separate showers when they’re done and then Matt insists on rubbing lotion that Marci had him buy all over Foggy, paying close attention to any skin that still feels sore and warm. By the time it’s over, Foggy’s half-hard but too exhausted to do anything about it, sighing out, “I would say let’s start round two, but I don’t think I can contribute anything to it. You fucked the _life_ out of me, Matty.”

Matt smiles fondly and finishes rubbing lotion onto Foggy’s stomach before he lies beside him and pulls Foggy into his arms.

“I just want to fall asleep with you,” he says, kissing Foggy’s head. “Sound good?”

“Yeah, daddy,” Foggy murmurs, smiling when Matt laughs and holds him tighter.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the feminization part comes a bit more into play here and will play a bigger, more explicit part in the future, probably

They’re waiting in line to buy movie tickets and Matt’s standing behind Foggy with his arms looped around his waist, chest warm against his back, when he leans in and murmurs, “Baby girl,” quietly in his ear.

Foggy’s breath catches, turning his head to see Matt’s face, part content and a little hesitant.

“Daddy,” Foggy says, as softly as he can.

Matt beams and presses a kiss to his cheek, tightens his arms, but doesn’t say anything else. He’s been really into the public displays of affection, lately, like he wants everyone to know that they’re together, like he’s _proud_. The whole thing makes Foggy feel giddy and nervous simultaneously, like the other shoe’s gonna drop at some point.

Matt’s hand rests high up on Foggy’s thigh throughout the whole movie, while Foggy loses the plot even while he's quietly narrating for Matt because he’s too busy fantasizing about being on his knees, sucking Matt off in the middle of the theater for anybody to see.

*

On the walk back, Foggy says, hopefully, “Say it again, Matty.”

Matt tips his head back and grins at the sky, reaching out to take Foggy’s hand before he says, casually, “Baby girl?”

“Yeah,” Foggy breathes. “You—like that?”

“Mmm hmm,” Matt says. “Sounds sweet.”

“. . .like me?” Foggy asks, wondering if Matt can tell that he’s blushing when they aren’t even touching. He glances over to see that Matt looks surprised for a moment before he turns a dark pleased smile towards Foggy, tugging on his hand lightly so he stops.

“Just like you, baby girl,” he says, voice low, and Foggy lets out a shaky laugh and kisses him quickly, sparing a glance for the people passing them on the sidewalk.

“Come call me that where I can do something about it,” he says, wrapping an arm around Matt’s waist and tugging him along.

*

“Put something pretty on for me,” Matt says, standing behind Foggy as he fumbles with his keys, talking low in his ear.

“Pantyhose?” Foggy asks.

“Only if I can rip it again,” Matt says, biting gently at his neck before Foggy gets the door open and tugs him inside, laughing and holding onto Matt’s waist when he pulls him into a rough kiss.

He manages to gasp out, “Whatever you want,” between kisses, letting himself be backed up until Matt can pin him against the wall and start unbuttoning his shirt without ever breaking apart.

After Foggy’s naked, back against the cold wall, Matt presses one more kiss to his forehead before he steps back.

“Get dressed, baby,” he says, smiling.

“Only if you get undressed,” Foggy says, laughing when Matt spanks him once as he walks past him to dig through his dresser. “Sorry, I mean,”—he lets his voice go high and breathy—“ _Yes, daddy_.”

Matt laughs, too, says, “That’s better,” but he’s stripping out of his clothes when Foggy glances back at him. He pulls out a new pair of black pantyhose and a sheer pale blue silk negligee that Matt spent a particularly long time touching the first time Foggy tried it on. He has to sit on the edge of his bed to get the pantyhose on, groaning at the feeling of it over his erection as he stands up again to walk over to Matt’s bed, where Matt’s already putting on a condom.

“Impatient, Murdock?” he asks, happily. Matt strokes his dick a few times, smiling lazily, before he reaches up to pull Foggy into his lap, steadying him with his hands spread out on his silk-covered hips.

“I’ve been thinking about being inside you all night,” Matt says, sliding one hand around to palm Foggy’s ass. “I have _no_ clue what that movie was about.”

“ _I_ was fantasizing about blowing you,” Foggy says. “We should probably stop wasting money on dates.”

“No, I like taking you out,” Matt says.

“Showing me off?”

Matt reaches up to slide fingers into Foggy’s hair and pull him down into another kiss, licking into his mouth and drawing soft moans out of him. He has to catch his breath when Matt lets go of him, and he has to catch it again when Matt says, “I like people knowing that you’re mine, princess.”

“Princess,” Foggy repeats, kind of choked.

“That’s what you are, right?” Matt asks. It’s hot and challenging, but it’s also him checking in to make sure they’re still okay.

“Yeah,” Foggy breathes, putting all his weight on Matt to push him down onto his back, kissing him through his laughter. “Fuck, Matty— _daddy_ , that’s hot, why is that so hot?”

“Because you like being pretty,” Matt says, warmly, sliding a hand between Foggy’s legs to squeeze him through the pantyhose. “You like being my princess, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” Foggy says, groaning when Matt strokes fingers up and down the length of his erection. “Yes, yes, daddy. I love it.”

“Get on your knees, princess,” Matt says. “I want your ass, okay?”

“Okay,” Foggy echoes, and Matt squeezes him one more time before he pulls back and smacks Foggy’s dick just hard enough to make Foggy yell wordlessly, clutching at Matt’s shoulders until he can gasp out, “Holy _shit_. Oh my god.”

“Good?” Matt asks.

“Do it _again_ ,” Foggy says, panting.

“Hmm,” Matt hums, pleased. “Maybe after you give me what I want.”

Foggy leans down to kiss him once, firmly, before he climbs out of his lap and sprawls out with his hips raised up and his legs spread. Matt gets off the bed to get lube and spanks Foggy again when he comes back, sharply, making Foggy push forward and groan.

“Daddy,” he says, hoarsely.

“You want more, baby girl?” Matt asks, voice measured and fond, like he’s not also dying for this.

“Yes, _please_ ,” Foggy says, because he wants it all to happen now, because him blushing furiously and being shameless gets them both off which means he’ll say anything that Matt wants him to. “Spank me, daddy.”

“ _Good_ girl,” Matt croons, smoothing his hand up and down Foggy’s ass before he spanks him again and again, so hard that Foggy can’t bite back the noises he makes.

He muffles them with his face until he can’t take it anymore, wriggling away and barely managing to form the words to say, “ _Uh, ow_ —stop, Matty, stop, stop, stop. Want you to fuck me.”

Matt immediately stops and drapes himself over Foggy’s back, rutting up against his sore ass and nipping at his neck, before he sits back up to get fingers into the pantyhose stretched over Foggy’s ass and _rip_.

Foggy’s expecting Matt’s fingers and moans when he gets Matt’s tongue instead, lathing hot over his hole a few times and barely pushing inside before Matt replaces it with two slick fingers. He fingers Foggy open rough and quick before he shoves his hips down and pushes inside of him, filling him up with a few jerks of his hips.

“You’re so tight,” he mumbles, sounding drunk on it, smoothing his hands up the silk covering Foggy’s sides.

“You’re _big_ ,” Foggy moans back. “Fuck, daddy, your _dick_.”

“You like it?” Matt asks, sounding smug, and Foggy laughs and pushes back as much as he can with Matt’s weight pinning him down.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite,” he breathes. “Could you—just—not too hard?”

“Did I hurt you?” Matt asks, concerned, but Foggy shakes his head and moves his hips back again, clenching around Matt.

“I wanted it,” he says. “You might just need to, like, make _love_ to me until it hurts less.”

Matt lets out a shaky breath before he pulls out, ignoring Foggy’s whine of protest to flip him over gently, putting a pillow underneath the small of his back before he’s pressing in close again and hitching Foggy’s legs up around his waist.

He fucks Foggy with slow, intentional thrusts, running his hands over his stomach, thumbing lightly over his nipples through the fabric of his lingerie, pressing kisses to his face and neck and shoulders. He calls Foggy _baby girl_ and _sweetie_ and _princess_ and tells him how much he loves him and Foggy can’t do much more than tighten his legs and let Matt take him apart.

After Matt comes inside of him, spilling into the condom, and Foggy resists the urge he’s been having to resist for awhile to tell Matt to not bother using a condom next time because he can’t stop thinking about having Matt come inside of him—after that and after Matt pulls out, he asks, “Do you still want—want me to—”

He runs fingers over Foggy’s erection trapped tight under the pantyhose, which makes Foggy start, jerking forward.

“Uh huh,” he moans. “Hit me.”

“Okay,” Matt says, smiling. “ _Tell me_ if it hurts too much.”

“That’s half the fun,” Foggy says, arching up when Matt smacks him sharply, sobbing out a hurt noise. It takes three more hits before Foggy’s coming, throwing his head back as Matt works him through it until he’s too oversensitive, reaching out to grab Matt’s arm and tug until moves up the bed to pull Foggy into his arms and press a firm kiss to his temple.

“You were amazing,” he murmurs, sounding sleepy.

“Uhm, _you_ were,” Foggy says, nuzzling into his neck. “I gotta take the pantyhose off before you fall asleep on top of me, Matty.”

“I got you,” Matt says, letting go of him long enough to roll them down Foggy’s thighs and tug them off, tossing them in the direction of the trashcan and immediately pulling him close again. “Can I fall asleep on top of you now?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Foggy says, warmly, snuggling closer. “Go for it.”


	7. Chapter 7

They’re studying in their favorite coffee shop, gamely trying to concentrate, when Foggy’s mind drifts until he kicks Matt gently under the table and says, voice low, “Hey, want to try the cuffs out later?”

“. . .I’m not going to be able to retain anything now,” Matt says, sternly. Foggy grins at him, reaching out to take Matt’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Sorry, daddy,” he whispers, and Matt looks delighted.

“You being slutty for me, baby girl?” he whispers back, pulling his hand away to stroke fingers up and down Foggy’s arm instead.

“Mmm hmm,” Foggy hums, happily. “Basically always. I do have to finish studying, though.”

“I think I can make it for thirty more minutes,” Matt says, “but we’re leaving after that.”

“Look at you, all hot and controlling,” Foggy says.

“Look at you,” Matt says, levelly, “being a cocktease.”

“Wow, save that language for the bedroom, Murdock.”

Matt grins at him and moves to get close enough to press a firm kiss to Foggy’s temple.

“Twenty nine minutes,” he says. “Study quick.”

*

Forty five minutes later, Foggy’s naked except for pink and white lace panties and cuffed to Matt’s headboard with pink leather cuffs and pink rope.

“I’m going to try something,” Matt’s saying, firmly, naked in Foggy’s lap with his legs slung over him to each side, “and if you don’t like it, tell me and I won’t do it anymore. Okay?”

“Okay,” Foggy says. “Go for it.”  

“It might be too much,” Matt says, but he leans in to kiss Foggy on the mouth, on the cheek, duck down to bite and lick gently at his neck. Being tied up feels strange and amazing, like being out of control and completely controlled at the same time. He’s so distracted by the feeling that he’s caught off guard when Matt says, close to his ear, “You want me to fuck your pretty little pussy, baby?”

Foggy gasps out a shocked laugh.

“Fuck,” he says. “Matt.”

“Say the word and we’ll never mention it again,” Matt says, sweet and hesitant, stroking fingers through Foggy’s hair before brushing them over his warm cheeks.

Foggy smiles, turning his head enough to kiss Matt’s fingers.

“I like it,” he says, quietly, voice wavering.

“Sure?” Matt asks, kissing his forehead, lingering close.

“I think so,” Foggy says. “My—body _definitely_ thinks so. I’ll tell you if I change my mind.”

“Good,” Matt says, smiling warmly, nudging their foreheads together before he sits back, resting his hands on Foggy’s thighs. “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” Foggy says, hushed, already overwhelmed even though Matt’s barely touched him. “Please.”

“You’ve got to say it, baby,” Matt says, smiling and pressing a kiss to Foggy’s mouth. Foggy takes a shuddering breath, rocks his hips up.

“Fuck my—fuck my pussy,” he says, voice cracking. “Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Matt says, indulgently, sliding slick fingers into the back of Foggy’s panties to press against his hole. He takes his time, making sure that Foggy can take him easily before he encourages Foggy to wrap his legs around him and pushes his panties to the side to fill him up.

Foggy grunts softly and moves his hips up, spreading his legs more. His skin is flushed red all over and his dick is still pressed hard up against lace, held down by the elastic waistband. He feels dirty and electric and loved and too many things all at once.

He’s already got tears in his eyes, shut tight until Matt breathes out, “ _Oh_ , baby girl, you’re so fucking tight.”

When he opens them again, Matt’s got an awestruck look on his face and Foggy gasps.

“Kiss me,” he says, lifting his hips up to take more of Matt. “Daddy, please, kiss me.”

“Whatever you want,” Matt promises, devoutly, kissing Foggy chastely before he licks into his mouth. It’s slow and filthy and perfect, and he’s fucking Foggy slowly, rolling his hips down gently—part of Foggy wants him to be rougher, but this moment’s—practically perfect.

Matt jerks him off just as slowly, but he murmurs sweet, hot things in Foggy’s ear and that’s enough for Foggy to shake and moan and comes in his panties with his legs tightening around Matt’s body.

“Matt,” he gasps, pulling lightly at the cuffs just to feel them more. “Daddy.”

“You’re so good, Fog,” Matt says, roughly, hips jerking more erratically as he presses his face into Foggy’s neck to kiss it. “My sweet girl.”

Foggy lets his head fall back to accommodate Matt, who’s nuzzling against it when he groans Foggy’s name and comes, snapping his hips hard then grinding against him until he’s finished. He stays inside of Foggy until he can speak again, mumbling, “Feel like I need to _repent_ ,” against Foggy’s skin.

“In a good way?” Foggy asks.

“The best way,” Matt promises, lifting his head to kiss Foggy firmly on the mouth. He pulls out of him carefully, getting rid of the condom before climbing back onto the bed to straddle Foggy again and touch the cuffs, run his hands up Foggy’s arms. “Do you want me to let you loose?”

“Yeah, please,” Foggy says. “And, you know, all bondage aside, this was very pure sex.”

“Explain,” Matt says, laughing, fumbling a little bit with the careful knots he tied.

“Well, it was beautiful missionary style lovemaking,” Foggy says, making a soft pleased noise when he’s free and shifts down the bed to sprawl out and wrap his sore arms around Matt. “For one. And, you know, if God’s not paying close attention, he could mistake us for a very heterosexual couple. _You_ like calling me a girl and _I_ have beautiful hair.”

“You do, but I’m not sure we can fool God with dirty talk,” Matt says, moving them around until they’re curled up facing each other.

“Hey, we’ll never know until we try,” Foggy says, brushing their noses together, feeling his heart flutter a little at the sight of Matt’s smile up close.

“It’s still pre-marital sex,” Matt says, but he sounds happy. “He’s not a fan of that.”

“Well, if you’re concerned about getting into Heaven,” Foggy murmurs, yawning and shutting his eyes. “I think I’d look pretty hot in a wedding dress.”

Matt’s silent for a long moment and Foggy opens his eyes to see a soft, hesitant look on his face. When he realizes that Foggy’s looking at him, he smiles wide.

“ _Really_ hot,” he says, kissing him. “C’mon, let’s sleep.”

*

“You _proposed_ ,” Marci says.

“Not in—so many words,” Foggy says, despairingly, hiding his face in his latte. “I just basically offered myself up for the taking. Like he’ll get a dowry and my virginity.”

“Little late for that,” Marci says, then grins at him. “You _love_ him.”

“We’ve already established that,” Foggy says, sitting his mug down.  

“Yeah, but now you love him in a way that means you’ll have to pick out a color scheme and—oh my god, special wedding night lingerie,” Marci says, clearly enjoying herself. “It’s horrifying. I’m happy for you.”

“We’re not getting married,” Foggy says. “I probably scared him off, actually. He was _weird_ this morning.”

“What kind of weird?”

“Evasive,” he says. “He woke up early and, like, pecked me on the cheek and ran off without saying anything. Normally in the mornings, we like—”

“Fuck?” Marci supplies.

“Have coffee and _talk_ ,” Foggy says, gasping. “ _Wow_ , Marci.”

“And then you fuck?”

“. . .well, yeah,” he acquiesces. “Anyway, he’s going to leave me, which means I bought all that lingerie for _nothing_.”

“Oh my god, Murdock wants to tie you up in a pretty pink bow and keep you forever,” she says. “He’s probably going to pick out a ring or something.”

“. . .do you really think so?” he asks, quietly.

“I don’t know what goes on in that annoyingly handsome head of his,” she says, patting Foggy’s arm, “but he loves the fuck out of you, Fog. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t bother putting up with him.”

“You’re being suspiciously nice,” Foggy says, smiling at her.

“Somehow being overinvested in your sex life has led to me being overinvested in your _happiness_ ,” Marci says, rolling her eyes and trying to look aloof. “I don’t understand it, either.”

“I’m gonna hug you later,” Foggy says, happily.

“You are _not_.”

“I’ll pay for your coffee, at least,” he says, letting his mind drift off to think of Matt on one knee.


	8. Chapter 8

A few weeks later, Foggy skips his last class because he has a headache and comes back to the dorm to find a delicate white silk negligee laid out on his bed, edged in lace and pearls. It takes a few moments for his brain to catch up to the situation and then he loses his breath, stepping forward slowly to run cautious fingers over the fabric. Underneath it, there are silk panties, thigh-high hose, a garter belt—all pretty and perfect and white.

“Oh, Matt,” he murmurs, feeling overwhelmed. It might just be a coincidence, an unrelated gift, but Foggy’s pretty sure that it’s not.

Matt answers his phone on the second ring.

“You’re supposed to be in class,” he says, suspiciously.

“Skipped it,” Foggy says, smiling.

“. . .you’re home, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, Matty,” Foggy says, laughing. “I’m home.”

“Stay there,” Matt says, firmly. “That’s—an order, don’t even move, I’ll be there in, like, two minutes.”

It’s more like ten minutes, and Matt’s red-faced and gasping for air when he comes through the door, stopping to lean against the back of it to catch his breath.

“What’s up, buddy?” Foggy asks, happily.

“It was supposed to be a _surprise_ ,” Matt says, basically pouting.

“I’m pretty surprised,” Foggy says, laughing. “Are you gonna ask me?”

Matt takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

“You figured it out before today, didn’t you?” he asks, pushing off the door and stepping in closer. “You’re too smart.”

“You _like_ that I’m smart,” Foggy says.

“Yeah, I do,” Matt says, warmly, sliding fingers into Foggy’s hair to pull him into a long kiss.

They make out slowly, distracted by it, until Foggy bites gently at Matt’s lip and turns his head to lean in close to Matt’s ear and say, “Ask me, Matty.”

 “Right,” Matt says, gasping out a laugh, kissing Foggy one more time before he steps back and drops down to one knee. Foggy watches with actual tears in his eyes as Matt digs in his pocket and finds a small velvet box, lifting his head to smile softly up at Foggy after he opens it. “The ring is cheap, I’ll get you a better one after we graduate, but—you wanna marry me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Foggy says, nodding. “Yes— _obviously_ , dude, get up here.”

Matt laughs and stands up to sweep him into another kiss.

*

The ring is gold with a small diamond in the center. It was probably made for a woman, but Matt bought it for _him_. Foggy can’t stop twisting it on his finger and feeling kind of light-headed while Matt searches for his wallet, saying, as he heads out the door, “Get dressed while I’m gone, I can’t believe I forgot the _god_ damn champagne.”

“Jesus heard that!” Foggy yells after him. “I love you!”

“I’ll repent tomorrow! Love you, too!”

“Gonna give you something to repent for later,” Foggy murmurs, smiling at the ring before he takes it off and sits it on his desk before he goes to steal Matt’s shower stuff and take a quick shower.

After he gets out and towel dries his hair, he puts on the perfume that he bought, on his neck and the insides of his wrists and the back of his knees. Matt helped him wax again the other day, so his skin feels soft everywhere he touches it.

He puts Matt’s gifts on slowly and doesn’t look in the mirror until he’s done.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to look at himself like this, but now—

He looks pretty. Really pretty.

*

Matt comes back with cheap champagne and plastic glasses the most ridiculous smile, and they sit together on Matt’s bed and drink the whole bottle between them. By the time the bottle’s empty, Foggy’s sitting between Matt’s legs with his back against Matt’s chest, Matt’s arms circling him and holding him close.

He presses a kiss to Foggy’s temple and says, low, “I can’t wait to marry you, princess.”

“Do you want a big Catholic wedding?” Foggy asks. “Because if you don’t, we could head to the courthouse now, I’ll just throw something on over this.”

Matt laughs, warm breath against Foggy’s cheek before he presses a kiss there.

“We can talk about it later,” he says, one hand spreading out over the silk on Foggy’s stomach before it slides down slowly. “I have plans for tonight.”

“Oh,” Foggy says, then, when Matt’s hand closes gently over his half-hard dick through his panties, “ _Oh._ Okay, plans.”

Matt jerks him off slowly through the fabric and Foggy tips his head back to rest it on his shoulder, moaning and whimpering before he says, “Matty— _Daddy_ , you’ve gotta stop unless you want me to ruin these.”

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” Matt asks.

“They’re perfect,” Foggy says. “Where did you get all this?”

“Uhm. . .” Matt starts, hesitating, and Foggy laughs.

“Marci?” he asks. “Seriously?”

“She’s confusingly helpful,” Matt says, sighing. “I begged her to go to the mall with me the day after you joked about getting married.”

Foggy smiles at nothing before he turns enough to press a soft kiss to Matt’s mouth.

“I wasn’t really joking,” he says.

“Yeah, baby girl,” Matt says, sounding happy, running his fingers through Foggy’s hair. “I know. Now—get on your knees with your pretty ass in the air while I figure out just what I want to do with you. I think we need to really celebrate.”

“Yes, daddy,” Foggy murmurs, turning around entirely to kiss Matt deeply before he sprawls out and raises his hips up. He’s never felt so overwhelmed—so _loved_ , so _in love_. He wants Matt forever.

And Matt wants him, too.


	9. Chapter 9

Foggy’s pretty sure that Matt’s getting off on him wearing his ring in public.

They’re in class now, and he’s holding Foggy’s hand and stroking his thumb over the band, over and over. He’s barely paying attention because of it; he’s about to whisper to Matt and tell him he needs to stop or Foggy’ll fail out and have to be his trophy wife when he notices that Matt’s— _definitely_ getting off on Foggy wearing his ring in public.

He stares at the line of Matt’s erection in his jeans, smiling before he leans in close to whisper, “Need some help there, Murdock?”

Matt smiles slowly, not even moving his head towards Foggy.

“Want to take care of it?” he murmurs.

Foggy takes a deep breath while he thinks about jerking Matt off in class—or getting on his _knees_ , hidden by the row in front of them, watching Matt try not to react while Foggy’s sucking him off. It’s nice. He’d like to graduate and get his degree, but it’s nice to think about.

“Bathroom,” he says, a little louder than he intends to, dropping a hand to squeeze Matt’s knee as somebody nearby shushes him.

“Meet you there,” Matt mouths.

Foggy gathers his things as quietly as possible and goes to wait in the accessible bathroom, thinking about taking his clothes off when Matt shows up to do it for him. He pushes Foggy up against the door and kisses him deeply, asks, “How much did you want to get me off in the middle of class?”

“We can go back in and I’ll show you,” Foggy says, laughing when Matt pulls back to give him a curious look. “That’s— _probably_ best left to fantasy. Why don’t you tell me what’s got you all riled up?”

Matt presses a sweet kiss to his mouth before he laces their hands together and brings Foggy’s up to kiss it, lips brushing over the ring.  

“You’re gonna be _mine_ ,” he says, voice dropped low.

“I’m already yours, Matty,” Foggy says, smiling. “Are you getting off on the sexy legal aspect?”

“Maybe,” Matt says, letting go of his hand to stroke fingers over his face instead. “We’ll have to sign documents.”

“Go to the courthouse,” Foggy agrees, pushing in closer, biting his lip around a smile.

“File our taxes together,” Matt says, brushing their noses together.

“Joint checking accounts,” Foggy breathes, against Matt’s mouth, groaning out a laugh when Matt kisses him again, cradling his head with a hand as he shoves him hard up against the door and unbuttons Foggy’s jeans with the other. 

His fingers slide over the silky panties that Foggy put on this morning without Matt knowing and his breath catches.

“Oh, Fog,” he murmurs, cupping Foggy’s erection and squeezing it lightly, making Foggy whimper. “My pretty girl. Are you wearing these for me?”

“Kind of for me,” Foggy admits, “but I figured it wouldn’t be long before you shoved your hand down my pants.”

“Yeah,” Matt says, laughing, sounding charmed. “You’re hard to resist. Why don’t you take your clothes off for me? Except—” He squeezes harder before he lets go and Foggy groans. “These. Leave these on.”

Foggy sways forward to brush a kiss over Matt’s mouth before he backs up a few steps to strip out of his clothes, hanging them up on the hook on the door and then moving to stand in front of Matt again.

“Daddy,” he says, softly.

Matt steps forward to kiss him again.

“I—I want your mouth, princess,” he says, cupping Foggy’s cheek. “Get on your knees for me?”

“Okay,” Foggy breathes, grinning, rubbing his cheek against Matt’s hand for a moment before he drops carefully to his knees. The tile floor is cold underneath him, and his mouth is watering before Matt even unzips his jeans.

Matt makes a long obscene noise while he tangles fingers in Foggy’s hair and feeds him his dick and Foggy moans out a reply, tipping his head back enough that Matt nudges up against his throat.

“I love your mouth, baby,” Matt says, low and sweet, a little desperate, fucking Foggy’s mouth. “I can’t stop thinking about how it’s just for me. I’m the _only_ one who gets to feel you whimper around their dick because you can’t get enough of it, who gets to see how—oh, _god_ , Foggy—how much of a slut you are.”

 Matt pulls out for just a moment, head of his dick resting on Foggy’s lips, and Foggy gasps, “Yeah, yes, I’m a slut—for you, I’m yours— _Matty_.”

“Slip your hand in your pretty panties and feel how wet you are for me,” Matt says, pushing back in Foggy’s mouth just a little, “but don’t move it.”

Foggy does what he’s told, mumbling something incoherent when his fingers slide over his dick so he can rest his hand on it without moving it beyond the fact that he’s started trembling.

Matt comes in Foggy’s mouth while he’s telling him what he wants to do to him on their honeymoon, stuff that has Foggy so distracted that he barely notices swallowing or when Matt pulls out and drags him back to his feet. He pushes Foggy back up against the wall and takes his hand, pulling it out of his panties and pinning it to the wall while he slides his own hand inside.

“God, this is so much better than class,” Foggy says, breathlessly, tipping his head back so Matt can suck bruises onto his neck while he jerks him off roughly.

“There’s another hour,” Matt says, teeth scraping Foggy’s neck. “We’ve gotta go back.”

“No,” Foggy moans. “Let’s sk—skip. Holy _shit_ , Matt, I’m close.”

“We’re responsible adults,” Matt says, tightening his grip, leaning up to kiss Foggy on the mouth. “Besides—I want to make you sit through class with come soaking your panties.”

Foggy’s brain might spark and die for a moment, coming a few seconds after Matt says that, dick twitching against Matt’s hand and warm silk. Matt works him until he’s squirming, tears in his eyes, then pulls his hand away to wipe it off on Foggy’s hip.

“Oh, shit, daddy,” Foggy says, sinking forward so Matt wraps arms around his waist to hold him up.

“You liked that?” Matt asks, clearly smirking.

“Yeah—yes, I liked it,” he says, lifting his head from where it was pressed against Matt’s shoulder to kiss him firmly on the mouth. “Do I get something if I make it through class?”

“Maybe,” Matt says, fake-speculatively, like he’d ever actually say no. “What do you want?”

Foggy feels himself flush head to toe when he pushes into Matt’s space to get close to his ear and whisper, “I want you to fuck my pussy, daddy.”

The hand that Matt had resting on the small of Foggy back clenches, fingernails dragging lightly.

“. . .maybe we _could_ skip,” he says, after a moment, and Foggy laughs too loudly.

“No,” he says, kissing Matt’s cheek and stepping away to grab his clothes. “We’re _responsible adults_.”

“Are we really, though?” Matt asks, zipping himself up and leaning back against the wall. Foggy can tell that he’s listening to him getting dressed because his head follows the noise of his jeans sliding up his thighs, his fingers on the zipper.

“Well, _you’re_ headed straight towards summa cum laude,” Foggy says, smoothing down his shirt, “and I’m riding your coattails—among other things—into the sunset.”

“You’re getting magna at least,” Matt says, pulling him into a hug. “C’mon. Sooner we go learn, sooner I can get you underneath me.”

“Right where I want me,” Foggy says, happily, letting Matt lead him out with an arm around his waist.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's pregnancy kink happening below

They’re out for brunch with Marci, who knows the cheapest places to get the most drunk at 10:00 AM, when Foggy decides to go for it. Marci leaves to go to the bathroom and he takes the hand that Matt has curled around his mimosa, squeezing it lightly before he asks, “Hey, what do you think about not using condoms?”

 Matt’s mouth drops open before he laughs, too loud, covering his mouth to quiet it.

“What do _you_ think?” he asks, once he’s calmed down.

Foggy lowers his voice, shifting his chair closer.

“I think I want to feel your come inside me,” he says, smiling when Matt shuts his eyes for a long moment and takes a deep breath.

“You know, I should probably punish you,” he says, leaning in to murmur in Foggy’s ear, “for being a little slut in public.”

“Did I get you going?” Foggy asks, grinning.

“Will Marci be mad if I drag you out of here right now?” Matt asks, which is enough of an answer.

“Yes, she will,” Marci says, sliding back into her seat and giving them a look that’s split between amused and judgmental. “We have bottomless mimosas and I intend to get as close to the bottom as possible—and I don’t drink alone.”

“. . .yeah, I guess we owe you,” Matt says, after a moment, and Marci laughs.

“Such a burden for you to get day drunk,” she says, sitting back in her seat and taking a long drink from her wine glass. “What kinky shit are you planning on getting into?”

“Ditching condoms,” Foggy says, immediately, and Matt sighs and shakes his head.

“So, we’re not even going to try keeping anything to ourselves anymore?” he asks.

“I’m part of this now,” Marci says, sounding happy with herself. “I support your dirty monogamous choices, though. Just make sure you don’t knock Foggy up—there’s no _way_ you could afford a baby right now.”

That makes something new stir inside of Foggy that he’s not sure how to deal with, shifting in his seat and thinking about—about Matt _knocking him up_.

“You okay?” Matt asks, softly, making a face at him and kicking him gently under the table. Foggy’s not even sure how he could tell something was wrong, but Matt’s always been good at that, even when they weren’t quite this close.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling and sliding his foot against Matt’s, up his ankle a little. “I’m good. Catch up, babe, you’re two drinks behind.”

*

Foggy’s worried that it’s weird. After everything they’ve done, surely it can’t be all that weird, but it seems like it might be a step too far—a little more than dirty talk and silk.

. . .Matt’s weird, too, though.

They’re making out with Matt on top when the feeling of Matt’s hand between his thighs makes him suddenly brave, turning his head to moan and ask, “Can I try something?”

“Of course,” Matt says, smiling when Foggy leans up to kiss him, soft, just barely brushing their lips together again and again until he gets up enough confidence to say what he wants to say.

“I wanna have your baby, Matty,” he murmurs, and Matt’s silent for a second before he lets out a sharp breath and laughs shakily.

“Holy _shit_ , Fog,” he says, pushing a knee between Foggy’s legs and kissing him roughly.

“Yeah?” Foggy asks, nervously.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Matt says, pulling at the hem of Foggy’s shirt so he lifts up enough to let it be pulled off, yelping when Matt immediately bends down to press a kiss to his chest and graze teeth over one of his nipples. “Are you wearing panties?”

“Lace,” Foggy says, breathlessly.

Matt practically rips his jeans open, and Foggy squirms underneath him to try to help him get them off, grinning when Matt throws them across the room and ducks down to press tickling kisses onto his stomach. He holds Foggy down when he starts laughing, biting gently at his stomach until he gasps out, “Daddy, please.”

“Please what?” Matt asks, lifting his head to smile.

“Please fuck me,” Foggy says, pushing up against Matt’s hands on his hips. “Come inside me.”

“Why?” Matt asks, a bigger grin before he leans down to lick over Foggy’s erection, straining against bright pink lace.

“F-fuck, because I want you to—want you to get me pregnant,” Foggy pants, face burning but so turned on that he’s worried he’ll come in his panties before Matt even gets inside of him. “I want your baby.”

Matt’s teeth graze his dick before he tugs the waistband down and takes Foggy in his mouth, licking around him.

“No, no, no,” Foggy murmurs, reaching down to brush fingers through Matt’s hair, and Matt immediately pulls off and lifts his head up, making a questioning face. “I don’t want to come yet. I want your come inside me first.”

The look on Matt’s face makes Foggy lose his breath.

 _“Sweet_ heart,” Matt says, kissing his hip and sitting up, smoothing a hand down one of Foggy’s thighs. “Of course. I want you to get yourself ready for me, okay? I want you to make yourself moan.”

Foggy takes a long moment to breathe deeply before he gets to his feet, his legs already kind of weak as he staggers to Matt’s desk to find lube, almost grabbing a condom before he remembers what they’re doing here.  

“God, I love you,” he says, almost laughing, falling back onto the bed in front of where Matt’s sitting.

“I love you, too,” Matt says, tousling his hair. “Three fingers, okay?”

Foggy slides his panties off and moves quickly until Matt tells him to slow down, letting him hear every noise that Foggy makes as he slicks his fingers up and presses them inside himself one by one while he listens to Matt get undressed. He’s got all three in deep, fucking himself slowly when he almost whimpers, “Matty.”

“Are you ready?” Matt asks, reaching out to stroke his fingers down Foggy’s arm. After Foggy makes a soft _uh huh_ noise, Matt continues, “Sit up. I want you on top of me.”

He moves so Matt can lie down, only hesitating slightly before he moves to straddle him. They haven’t fucked like this yet, and Foggy feels self-conscious about himself suddenly, like he hasn’t felt in a while.

“Is this okay?” Matt asks, because he’s ridiculously intuitive sometimes, can probably feel when Foggy gets tense. “Is it the baby thing?”

“No,” Foggy says, spreading his hands out on Matt’s shoulders. “I, uhm—feel very aware of my body suddenly? But it’s cool, it’ll go away.”

“No, come down here,” Matt says, smiling and reaching up to touch Foggy’s hair, pushing up into a soft kiss when Foggy leans down for him. “We can switch, but. . .do you think it would help if I dressed you up?”

A few times, Matt’s picked clothes out by touch, dressed Foggy carefully and left him feeling shaky. Shaky and cared for and— _treasured_.

“It might,” he says.

Matt sits up so Foggy’s in his lap, kissing him again.

“Go stand in the middle of the room, baby,” he says, following Foggy when he gets up, going to feel through the top drawer of Foggy’s dresser. He makes soft, contemplative noises until he pulls out one of the first teddies that Foggy bought with Marci, pale pink silk and white lace, low cut.

Foggy takes a deep, shaky breath when Matt walks to him and gestures for him to raise his arms. He dresses Foggy slowly, pulls it down and smooths it over his body. He settles his hands on Foggy’s hips and then squeezes them gently, pulling Foggy in so they’re pressed flush together.

“You’re so pretty, Fog,” Matt says, softly, sliding his hands around to rest them on Foggy’s ass, gripping it to pull him even closer when he asks, “Are you gonna ride my dick like a good little girl?” 

“Matt,” Foggy gasps, grinning. “Yes.”

Matt grins back and kisses him, squeezing his ass one more time before he lets go and lies down on the bed again. Foggy takes a moment to look at him, erection flushed and curving towards his stomach, looking pink and pleased with himself.

He’s gonna _marry_ him.

When he's on top of Matt, full and starting to rock his hips, Matt holds onto his waist and says, warmly, "Fuck yourself for me, baby girl. Show me how much you want it." 

Foggy makes an incoherent noise and speeds up, lifting himself up and sliding down again and again until he's basically bouncing on top of Matt, who groans out praise and talks about getting Foggy pregnant, filling him up. 

"I want it," Foggy moans. "Daddy, I want your come."

Matt squeezes Foggy's waist.

"What do you say?" Matt asks. 

"Please," Foggy says. "Please, daddy, please. Want your baby. Wanna be yours." 

"Good girl," Matt says, snapping his hips up so Foggy makes a startled noise and almost loses his balance. He leans down and Matt gets the picture, wrapping his arms around Foggy and holding on as he fucks him hard until he's groaning out Foggy's name and coming deep inside of him. 

They're both quiet for a moment after Matt's finished, and then Foggy says, "Oh my god."

"Oh my god," Matt echoes, sounding dazed. "How does it feel?" 

"Weird," Foggy says. "Hot, though."

Matt laughs softly and pulls him down into a kiss. 

"That sounds about right," he says, slapping Foggy's hip lightly. "Now, switch with me so I can jerk you off and tell you how pretty you are."

"Yes, daddy," Foggy says, just a little dry.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHM I GUESS THIS HAPPENED

“I’m not sure why you’re into this,” Foggy says, eyes fluttering while Marci’s trying to put eyeshadow on him. Pink and glittery—she did a swatch of it on his arm to make sure he was into it.

“I think _you’ll_ like it,” Matt says. He’s working on homework while Foggy’s sitting on the floor with Marci in front of him, getting made over. She’s already applied foundation and then did some magic nonsense to make it look like he has visible cheekbones. “And I want you to tell me how pretty you look.”

“And then you get to make him cry and fuck it all up,” Marci says, happily.

She immediately agreed to come help when Foggy texted her, showing up with a leather tote bag containing wine and a bunch of makeup. Also, an overeager smile.

“Oh, wow,” Matt says, looking stirred. “I didn’t think about that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Marci says, grinning at Foggy. “I left the waterproof shit at home for a reason. Okay, keep still or I’m going to poke you in the eye with this eyeliner.”

“Is that—a warning or a threat?” Foggy asks, but he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I think both,” Matt says. Marci just hums non-commitally, pushing Foggy’s hair away from his eyes and tucking it behind his ear gently as she starts to apply the eyeliner slowly. It takes her a few minutes to finish, going back to fill in until she makes a satisfied noise.

“There,” she says. “We just need lipstick and you’ll be the prettiest girl at the dance. What color, Murdock?”

“Pink,” Matt says, immediately.

“You’ve been thinking about it,” Foggy says, smiling.

“Maybe,” Matt says, smiling back. “I like you in pink.”

“Pink it is,” Marci says, digging through her bag. “I don’t have a lot of pink because I normally don’t want to look cute so much as intimidatingly gorgeous, but I’ve got one—yep, baby pink. I think it’s my roommate’s.”

“Tell her thank you,” Matt says, smiling when Marci laughs sharply.

“She’s a gossip,” she says. “The whole school would know about your kinky proclivities before the day was through.”

“Hand it over,” Foggy says, standing up after she gives it to him to stand in front of the mirror. He doesn’t look quite like he thinks he should, in his head, now that it’s all together. Once he carefully applies the lipstick, though, rubbing his lips together lightly, it’s like something shifts into place.

He doesn’t look like a girl, really, but—he kind of looks like himself.

He doesn’t notice that Matt’s stepped up behind him until he smooths a hand down Foggy’s side, lets it rest on his hip.

“How do you feel?” he asks, softly.

“Pretty,” Foggy says.

Matt squeezes his hip, runs his other hand through Foggy’s hair, from his scalp down. He’s pressing up against Foggy’s back.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, and Foggy swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, laughing shakily.

“You were right,” he says. “I do like this.”

“Should I leave, then?” Marci asks, standing up behind them.

“I don’t know,” Matt says. “Want to watch?”

Foggy’s breath catches.

“Shit,” Marci says, laughing. “I’m not sure if you’re joking, but—I kind of do.”

They haven’t really talked about this—being watched in an ambiguous fantasy way, but not Marci, specifically. It makes sense, though. If anyone. Foggy and her have a history and she knows everything else.

“Light?” Matt murmurs in his ear.

Foggy takes a moment before he says, “Green,” loud enough that Marci can hear it, too.

Matt wraps his arms around Foggy from behind to hug him tight before a moment before he turns around to face Marci and say, “I don’t want you to touch him, though. Not unless I say you can.”

“I can agree to those terms,” she says, snorting when Matt reaches out a hand and shaking it agreeably.

“What if you do say?” Foggy asks.

“Would you want that?”

“. . .maybe,” Foggy says, making eye contact with Marci. “If—”

“Yeah, kid,” Marci says, smiling, when he draws off. “I’ve kind of missed your mouth.”

“It’s a good one,” Matt says, warmly, pressing a kiss to Foggy’s mouth. It leaves traces of lipstick on Matt’s lips. “Why don’t you put something cute on? No panties.”

“Impatient?” Foggy asks, grinning.

“I figured you’ll be begging in a few minutes,” Matt says, kissing Foggy’s temple and stepping away from him. “Why make you wait?”

“You love making me wait,” Foggy says. He starts to look through his drawer when he stops and turns back around, looking at Marci. “Do you want to pick something?”

“Seriously?” she asks. “Wow, you’re like the best Barbie doll ever.”

He huffs out a laugh and steps aside to let her dig through his things until she pulls out a teddy made of pink lace, not that far from the color of his lipstick. He’s only worn it a couple of times but his heart picks up at the sight of her holding it and raising her eyebrows.

“Good?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Foggy says. “Perfect, actually.”

Foggy changes slowly, taking his time, so by the time that he turns around Marci is sitting on his bed with her legs crossed and Matt is waiting on his own. He starts to walk towards him and Matt says, “No, baby girl. Crawl.”

Marci makes a soft noise, maybe surprised, and Foggy drops to his knees.

*

“Fuck,” Marci breathes, and Foggy can’t turn his head to see what she’s doing because he’s got Matt’s dick pressing up against the back of his throat. Matt took the part about fucking up his makeup seriously—spanked Foggy until he cried and then got him on his knees on the floor and fucked his face while Marci touched herself.

Matt pushes in enough that he gags before pulling out slowly, stroking Foggy’s hair before he turns Foggy’s head so he can see Marci fucking herself slowly, two fingers in deep.

“What does he look like?” Matt asks, and Marci hums softly.

“A slut,” she says, after a moment, smiling at Foggy. “Like he loves it.”

“Yeah?” Matt asks, sliding fingers into Foggy’s mouth before he asks, “Do you love showing off what a slut you are, princess?”

“Yeah,” Foggy says, garbled, licking around Matt’s fingers. “Please.”

“Good girl,” Matt says, then looks up at Marci instead. “Don’t make yourself come yet.”

“Uhm, I’m not your princess, Murdock,” she says, sharply.

“Trust me,” Matt says, laughing, fingertips pressing down on Foggy’s tongue. “Just wait.”

*

After Matt comes in his mouth, he kneels down to pet him and kiss him and call him baby for a minute before he says, “Do you want to go thank Marci for being so helpful, sweetheart?”

“Oh, okay,” Marci says, sounding pleased.

Foggy nods, expectantly.

“Go show her what you can do with that pretty mouth,” Matt murmurs, pressing one more kiss to Foggy’s lips before he pushes him gently so Foggy follows the motion and crawls over to Marci slowly.

“Can I?” he asks.

“God, yeah,” she says, slipping off the panties she’d just pushed to the side and lying down on her back, legs spread wide. He climbs onto the bed and immediately slides between them, licking over her clit so she lets out a surprised breath.

She pets Foggy’s hair while he eats her out exactly like she used to like it, moaning when Matt moves behind him and smooths a hand over his ass where the lace has ridden up, saying, softly, “Good girl.”

He wants Matt to touch him but he’s more concerned with Marci moaning low and tugging on his hair now, lifting her hips to grind up against his face.

She’s loud when she comes, and she presses Foggy’s head down until she’s completely finished.

“Wow,” she breathes, letting go of him and collapsing back. He lifts his head, taking a deep breath.

“Say thank you,” Matt says, reaching over to tug gently at Foggy’s hair.

“Thank you,” Foggy echoes, grinning at Marci when she sits up on her elbows.

“You’re _very_ welcome,” she says.

**Author's Note:**

> this story is all i want to write ever


End file.
